I woke up, surprised that I had slept. Lately, I hadn't been able to sleep for whatever reason. Stress, I supposed. I remembered last night, how Kenny had fallen asleep on my chest. Looking down, he wasn't there anymore. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and looked over to see Kenny sitting at my desk, leaned over and writing something. The curtains on my window remained closed with slivers of light shining through the cracks, but my desk lamp provided Kenny with the light he needed to see.
"Morning." I said to him. He jumped, startled, and whipped around, before breaking out into laughter.
"You scared me!" He said. He closed the notebook he'd been writing in and turned to face me completely. I assumed he was working on homework, as Kenny was a pretty good student. He always talked about how he didn't want to turn out a 'fuck-up' like his parents and he wanted to set a good example for his brother and sister. "How'd you sleep?" He asked casually, eyeing the posters that decked my walls.
"Pretty good. I haven't sleeping very well lately. Or at all." I admitted jokingly. Kenny frowned. I didn't mention the fact that he'd fallen asleep on top of me and I wasn't sure if he even remembered. "I slept well last night though." I said instead. I smiled at him and he smiled back.
"That's good." He said. He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his eyes, sighing. "I need to smoke." He said with a groan. I grimaced. Kenny had been smoking ever since we were freshmen and I hated it. I thought it was gross, and always have (despite trying it once or twice under the influence of peer pressure). But I understood how hard it was to stop and Kenny never really smelled like cigarettes and he chewed gum almost all the time so it wasn't a huge deal. But of course, I didn't want him to get cancer or anything. It's super unhealthy and just bad in general.
"That's gross." I said. I was smiling still but I was lightheartedly serious.
"I know." Kenny said. He didn't seem to think of it as lightheartedly as I was. "I need to stop. I can't even afford food let alone cigarettes." He chuckled bitterly. "But oh well... Where can I smoke?" He asked me. I got up and sat on the edge of my bed. I was still wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday since Kenny and I had fallen asleep accidentally before I'd had a chance to change into pajamas.
"We could walk over to Stark's pond or something." I offered. Stark's pond was a place where we'd practically grown up. Kenny, Stan, Cartman, and I had always gone there as a pastime and we knew the place as familiarly as the back of our hand. Kenny nodded, picking up his stuff. "Oh yeah," I said. "Your jacket should be done in the wash by now..."
"I'll go grab it." He said, jumping up and shutting the door behind him enthusiastically. I heard his footsteps as he run down the stairs. I stood up and walked over to my dresser, pulling out a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. I guess I felt boring today. I changed quickly and Kenny came back in as I was buttoning my jeans. He had his parka, his pants, and his t-shirt in hand.
I walked over to my desk where I had left my orange jacket sitting last night. I picked it up and put it on. Kenny was just standing there watching me. "What?" I asked. He laughed and shook his head. I was confused but I just ignored it. Kenny did weird, questionable stuff all the time, and after all these years I'd learned to ignore it. After pulling on my brown boots, which were one of only two pairs of shoes I owned (the other being a pair of red Chuck Taylor's that Stan got for my birthday last year), I stood up and grabbed my hat, putting it on. Kenny had just finished getting dressed, zipping up his parka. He wore the same thing as practically always, his signature parka, brown pants, and black boots.
"Why do you wear that hat all the time?" He asked, walking up to me. He stood in front of me, face to face, and I noticed that he was a couple inches shorter than me now, which was an accomplishment because I'd always been picked on for being short. Obviously, it wasn't a problem anymore because I was of average height, maybe a bit on the lower side. He stuck his hands under my hat and massaged his fingers into my scalp. I closed my eyes for a moment before opening them and looking into his.
"I don't know." I said. Kenny smiled, showing off his missing tooth. He took off my hat and put it on my desk.
"I like your hair." He said.
I felt heat creep into my cheeks. "I don't." I scoffed, looking away. My red, curly hair had always been something I hated about myself. Inherited from my matrilineal Jewish roots, it was something I regarded as mostly embarrassing and I covered it up with a hat as much as I could. Needless to say, teachers who forbade hats indoors were among my least favorite.
"I do." Kenny said. "Stop covering it up so much."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine." I muttered. He laughed and took his hands out of my hair, turning around and picking up his backpack, along with the notebook he had been writing in when I woke up. He slipped the book into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"Ready?" He asked. I nodded and followed him out of my bedroom door and down the stairs.
When we walked downstairs, my family was gathered around the table eating breakfast. "Morning." I said. Ike, my little brother, didn't even bother to look up from his phone, only acknowledging me with a slight nod. My dad nodded at me too. I looked away and rolled my eyes at them. Sometimes I understood why my mom was so crazy sometimes, why she felt like we weren't truly a family. Of course, she did over exaggerate a lot.
"Good morning, Kyle." My mom said. "Where are you two going?" She asked when she noticed us walking away. "Aren't you going to eat breakfast?"
I appreciated her concern for us, but seriously, can't she let me run my own life for once? I'm 17, for God's sake. "It's fine, we're just going down to Stark's pond for a bit. We'll pick up something to eat. Don't worry." My mom had always been overprotective and controlling. Recently, she'd gotten better about it with me and resorted to hyper-controlling Ike's life instead. Which didn't bother me, but I wondered what she was going to do when Ike got too old for her helicopter parenting. I figured it was a problem for another time, and it was Ike's problem at that, not mine anymore.
"Alright then. You two have fun. And be safe." She said. She sounded mostly nice but I detected a hint of something else lurking under her voice. I nodded and followed Kenny out of the front door. As soon as we stepped outside, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lifted one to his lips. He took a lighter out of the pocket of his backpack and attempted to light it. The lighter flicked but no flame would appear.
"God damn it…" He said, dropping his hands with the cigarette still perched between his lips. His electric eyes met mine and for a moment I felt a jolt of electricity fly through me. "Could we stop at the gas station for a second? My lighter is fucked." He said. I nodded and we turned down the next sidewalk. When we arrived at the gas station, I held the door open for him. He nodded at me in thanks and walked up to the counter, buying a generic green lighter. "Thanks." He said clearly to the clerk, nodding and waving as we walked out.
He lit the cigarette and blew the smoke out with a sigh. I wondered how he could possibly enjoy smoking. The thought of it repulsed me, but somehow I didn't mind it as much when Kenny did it. I figured it was an acquired taste, like coffee or beer, both of which I didn't like. Maybe I was just closed-minded.
"You want one?" He offered jokingly, holding out the pack of cigarettes and his new lighter in one hand.
"Fuck off." I laughed. I pushed his hand back and he put the contents back in his pocket. We mostly walked in silence. Every once in awhile, his hand would accidentally brush against mine. It was kind of awkward, so I put my hands into my pockets. Kenny smoked for almost the entire duration of the walk, and right before we arrived at the park he put out the cigarette on a fence post and threw it in the garbage before popping gum into his mouth. He offered me a piece of gum and I took it, muttering a thanks to him.
Kenny was really quiet as we walked to a bench that overlooked the pond. Today was colder than usual, since we were nearing the end of November and we lived in Colorado. It had actually been warmer than normal this year, and winter was truly starting to show its true colors just now. Our breath appeared in clouds around us as we sat in silence, taking in the view of the foggy pond that would likely freeze over in the next month.
"Are you okay, Kyle?" Kenny said out of nowhere, bringing me back to Earth after zoning out for a few moments.
"I feel like I should be the one asking you that." I said. I didn't look at him, and instead I kept my eyes on the pond, surveying its surroundings. I wasn't sure why, but the moment was really tense, as if there was something we should be talking about but both of us were too afraid to mention it.
"No." He said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him turn to face me. "I'm fine. You're the one who's been having… troubles lately. And you still haven't told me why. And I'm worried. What's wrong?"
I wanted to punch him. "If I hear one more person ask me what's wrong, I'm going to kill them." I said through gritted teeth. Immediately, I had regretted it, but I couldn't push the notion out of my mind. I could feel the pressuring anger building up inside my chest. The frustration was causing me to lose control and my aching hands were balled into fists inside my pocket. I wanted nothing more than to sucker punch Kenny across the pond in that moment, but I refrained. I knew it was just the built up frustration, and being violent wouldn't solve anything. My eyes were clenched shut and I still didn't face Kenny. Opening my eyes as calmly as I could, I turned my head and met his.
"Kyle, I care about you." He said. I turned to completely face him. "I know it's annoying and you may not have a perfect answer but I need to know what's wrong so I can help you." That had always annoyed me about Kenny. He always wanted to help, he could never just listen and let you deal with your own problems. I supposed it was a good attribute, but sometimes I wish he'd just back off.
Deep down, I knew I wanted him to help me. I knew that all of this was building up inside of me. Like my anger problem (which was a separate thing in itself), but much slower, and soon it's all going to become too much and burst if I don't get ahold and find control of it. And Kenny was offering to help me, Kenny wanted to help me. I would be stupid to deny his help. But there was something stopping me, an invisible wall between us. I pounded against it with aching fists and screamed Kenny's name for help, but he couldn't hear me.
"I'm sorry." He muttered, looking away again. The phrase sent my blood into an instant boil and everything I had been bottling up came out all at once. Without even thinking, my fist left my pocket and connected with the side of his face. All of the strength that I had and all the built up rage was concentrated into that blow, and Kenny damn sure felt it. He had fallen to the ground, blood dripping out of his mouth. He lifted a hand to his left cheek and coughed, spitting out blood and another tooth. He looked at me, the icy blue of his eyes paled to an almost white color, with only betrayal and confusion projecting from them.
"What the fuck?" He choked out. I stood up and stomped away. No thoughts were pulsing through my mind. My vision was white as I stomped home, practically running. I ran up the stairs without a word to anyone and slammed my door. My family probably called after me, but I was oblivious, blind with rage.
I regretted hitting Kenny. As soon as I slammed my door I fell down onto my bed and started crying. I noticed this was becoming a trend, me crying when I got upset. I used to only get angry, but now it happens in stages. It usually starts with me being sad, and then I'm frustrated, then I get angry and lash out, and then I run off and start crying. I feel like a coward for running off and crying like a baby after punching my best friend in the face.
Merely three minutes later, I heard Kenny enter the front door. "Everything okay?" I heard my mom ask. I couldn't hear what Kenny replied, but before I knew it he was opening my door and sitting down next to me on my bed. I faced away from him, still sniffling from my crying session. He put a hand on my back and rubbed it. We sat in silence for a while. Eventually, Kenny stood up and took off his jacket, and then prompted me to take off mine by putting his hands on my shoulders and tugging lightly. I complied and let him remove my jacket. After he set them down on my desk, he walked to me and grabbed onto my hand, pulling me up so I stood in front of him face-to-face.
His face was adorned with bruising already, especially around the area where my fist had collided with his jaw on his left cheek. His eyes stared through me but I kept mine on the bruising I had caused a mere 20 minutes ago. He stared up at me for a few seconds that seemingly stretched into hours before picking up my hands in his and placing them over his shoulders, putting his arms around my waist and hugging me tightly. I hesitated for a moment, and then hugged him back.
We stayed like that for a long time. Hot tears fell over my cheeks and dropped on to Kenny's freshly-washed parka but I stayed silent. I leaned my head into the crook of his neck. He smelled mostly of cologne and gum, subtly of cigarette smoke and weed. Despite my antipathy to the drugs, the weird mixture of smells was strangely comforting to me. Kenny pulled back and brought a hand to my face, tracing his thumb over my cheek, his eyes examining the freckles that dotted my cheeks. My eyes rested on his blonde hair, falling over his eyes, almost covering them. You need a haircut. I thought, but couldn't bring myself to say anything out loud in the awkward atmosphere.
"Let's take a nap." He suggested quietly. Without responding, I pulled out of our hug and got into my bed, and Kenny followed, wrapping himself up in my blankets and cuddling close to me. I didn't protest, in fact, I barely noticed. My brain felt foggy, as if this was all a dream and I'd soon wake up to discover my old, normal, boring life as a semi-popular football player with a few close friends and an easygoing personality. But I wasn't sure if I'd like going back there. Despite how sucky everything had been recently, I wasn't completely hating it. I needed change, rather than everything being so monotonous in my life. I liked having Kenny closer to me. I liked things changing. I liked a little bit of drama sometimes.
My eyes opened abruptly and I stared at the ceiling. Everything that had happened came whirling back to me and and I shot up. Kenny was still asleep in my arms. Glancing at the clock, about three hours had passed since Kenny and I had laid down to take a nap. Staring at the purple pools of bruises on Kenny's face, I felt horrible about what had happened. I set a hand on Kenny's shoulder and shook him gently. His eyes fluttered open and he sat up to look at me and smiled - almost sadly.
"Kenny, I'm so, so sorry." I said to him. He pushed himself up and sat criss cross on my bed, looking at me. He shook his head.
"Don't apologize, Kyle." He said. I tried to protest but he continued. "I care about you so much. More than you'll ever understand. More than Stan and Cartman. More than my own family. I hate to see you like this, you aren't yourself and I just feel so helpless because I don't know what to do or how to help you." His voice was shaking and he looked like tears were brimming his eyes. The redness around them accentuated the blue.
I didn't know what to say. All I could do was close my eyes and lean in to hug him. As we hugged, I whispered, "I don't know. Everything is always the same, Kenny. Every day just blends into one another and it's so boring. I feel like such a waste of space. I-"
"You're not a waste of space." He cut me off. "Please never say that again. You mean everything to me. I don't know if you realize, but my parents are shit, my friends don't talk to me, my siblings are falling into the exact same shitty habits that my parents did and you are all I have left. Even if you're insignificant in the grand scheme of things, you're so important to me." He sounded like he had more to say, but he stopped talking. When he pulled back, his eyes were red and his cheeks were tear stained. He laughed as he rubbed my shoulder. "Sorry, I got tears on your shirt."
I laughed too, and we leaned on each other as we kept on laughing, bursting out uncontrollably and crying, not with sadness but with joy this time.
"I'm sorry." Kenny said again.
"Shhhh…"